


Late Night Conversations

by WattStalf



Series: it's just piss [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bedwetting, Gen, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3972718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something different about Tony's recurring nightmare one night, something that he doesn't want anyone else to know about. And then he bumps into Natasha...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I managed to get inspired for this since I'm fairly new to the fandom in the first place, but for whatever reason the idea hit me out of nowhere and I figured I'd get it a whirl. Anyway, this is a trade with someone who wanted some Tony bedwetting.

_He had been having the dream a lot lately. Of course, it never registered as a dream at the time, but it hadn't really registered as a dream when he really experience it either, so it wasn't hard to believe that it was still as vivid and horrific now as it had been back then._

_His teammates. His friends. All of them, dead or dying, looking up at him with such disappointment because they knew just as well as he did that it was his fault, that he should have done more. And then, as if the knowledge of this weren't enough, Steve would use his dying breath to say that aloud. And then it was his time to die, and he would give in, accepting his fate despite the terror he felt._

_But on this particular night, something was different. As he was giving in, he felt a wet warmth under him that, a wet warmth that felt just bit too much like..._

Tony Stark's eyes flew open, jolted awake by the sensation of liquid pooling around him on the bed, just as his bladder finished emptying. He simply lay there, frozen for a moment as he tried to process exactly what had just happened. If he was not mistaken, he had had that same recurring nightmare, but this time he had...wet the bed?

No, no, there was absolutely no way. There had to be some mistake. That part of the dream had just been incredibly vivid, and he was still waking up. Any minute now he would realize the bed was blissfully dry and he could go on with his life as if nothing had ever happened.

But he was completely awake and alert now, and the sheets were still soaked. There was no denying that yes, he had in fact pissed the bed, but how? Why? Even with the evidence right there, he could not believe that he had done such a thing.

Sure, it had happened in his adult life from time to time. There had been some nights where he had been so intoxicated that he had woken up sopping wet (and, thankfully, alone), but that was nothing. Everyone made mistakes like that drunk. But he had been completely sober last night, and he had never slept right through a full bladder like that, not since he was a very young child.

There was something seriously wrong, he thought. Maybe not medically; he didn't think that one nighttime accident meant he was sick. But mentally, there had to be a problem; otherwise, why would he be so terrified by a nightmare, and so locked into it, that he had not woken up in time to prevent his sheets from becoming soaked? Things were getting so complicated.

He sighed, reminding himself that this mess wasn't going to clean itself up, and that he would have to do it quickly, before anyone else noticed. He got up and headed for the bathroom, taking a quick shower and putting on some clean lounge pants. He then stripped his bed, bundling the sheets up tightly in case he happened to pass someone. It would be hard to explain _why_ he was washing his sheets in the middle of the night, but as long as they could not see the wet spot, he could come up with some sort of excuse.

There was one flaw in his plan, however, and that was that he had his bedding piled in his arms so high he could not see very well. He knew he way around enough that it did not seem like a problem, and he would surely hear someone coming. Unless that someone happened to be very good at stealth, and gave no indication of their presence until it was much too late. It didn't help that that person was also a little bit shorter than him.

And so he collided directly into Natasha, who must not have been paying very good attention herself, which caused him to drop all he had been carrying. And though he scrambled to pick it up before she noticed anything amiss, he heard her giggle and knew that he was royally fucked.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” she said, smirking a bit.

Under any other circumstances, he would have shot back with some sort of quip, shut the conversation down with his usual snark, leaving with his confidence in tact and showing that he could not be bothered by such things. But these were not any other circumstances, and he was still so shaken by that damn nightmare, that all he could do was snap, “Yeah, I guess,” before shouldering past her.

To her credit, she at least seemed to realize that she had fucked up in some way, as she said, “Tony, wait. I didn't mean- I'm sorry I laughed. It was just my first response and I...” She trailed off.

“No, no, I totally get it, I would have laughed to.” As if to proof a point, he chuckled, but it was hollow and bitter. “I mean, it's totally hilarious, right?”

“Tony...” She paused, trying to think of the right words. “It's no big deal, okay? I mean...things have been rough around here lately, we're all under a lot of stress, and-”

“And I still pissed the bed, so, ya know.”

“But it really isn't a big deal!” she said sincerely. “It's not like it's chronic, right?” When he shook his head, she offered him a smile. “See? And nobody else knows about it, I'm not gonna tell, it basically never happened.”

“Because that's how that works,” he said in a deadpan. “Sorry, but I still know it happened, and you really just don't understand what a blow this is-”

“I do understand!” she interrupted, a bit more loudly than intended. She paused for a moment before saying, in a quieter tone, “I do.”

“How?” he asked, his voice a strange mixture of skeptical and genuinely curious.

“Because...” She groaned a bit. “Isn't it obvious? Do I really have to say it?” He merely raised his eyebrows at her. She groaned again and said, “I've had the same problem a few times recently...”

“A few times? As in, more than once? Man, that's actually worse.” He started to laugh, but the look she gave him shut him up fairly quickly.

“Don't forget I can always tell everyone about tonight.”

“Point taken,” he said, before mumbling, “but I could say the same thing.”

“Here I am trying to comfort you,” she said, not amused in the slightest.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry, couldn't resist.” He shrugged and there was a pause before he said, “Thank you, though. For saying you wouldn't tell. And for trying to comfort me. I know neither of us are really the comfort type, but...”

“Well, neither of us are really the bed wetting type either,” she said, offering him a smile. “But I guess both of those things can just stay between us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty, rushed ending and potential mischaracterization, I told you guys I was new to this fandom, please don't judge me I'm sensitive.  
> 


End file.
